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Topic: A Grand Entrance (Read 1021 times)

At the last event like this he had been invited to, Murphy had worn the best suit he owned – which had not been an expensive one and had been several years old. But this was a whole different ball game. The Sacramentum were hosting this one and Murphy knew they’d expect more of him. He’d enjoyed working for the Sacramentum at first, but after everything that had happened, sometimes he wished it would just fade away. He couldn’t tell them that though.

Over the past couple of years things hadn’t been easy money-wise, given the position his father had left him in when he’d died, but Murphy had been saving for emergencies and getting the invitation to this event felt like a good reason to break into those funds.

So he had actually got himself a nice suit in black with a dark green silk lining (no one could see it so what was the point?!) and had it tailored to fit properly. He’d teamed it with a simple white shirt and a dark green tie (so that it wouldn’t clash if anyone did happen to see the lining). Now that he could see himself in the mirror, Murphy didn’t think he’d ever worn anything which made him look so good. Hell, it wasn’t designer and at an event like this there would no doubt be plenty of people who knew that, but Murphy felt good in it. His shoes weren’t new, but they were comfy, not too worn and he had polished them carefully earlier in the day.

There was a sun-kissed tinge to the skin on his face as he’d spent a lot of the afternoon pacing around the city in the heat of the day, stealing himself up for the event. The sun had brought out the blonde highlights in his brown hair, which he’d used a little hairspray to spike up.

Murphy had made it into the event a little before the rush, not wanting to make a grand entrance like some. He’d ordered a drink, in a rare move choosing something with alcohol in it, but asked for his rum and coke to be a weak one. After being greeted by one of his touch points with the Sacramentum Murphy had found a discrete spot to watch those arriving, leaning slightly against a column (and forgetting that he suit he was wearing probably shouldn’t be one that you leaned against things in). He stood up straighter when he spotted Ben’s arrival though, a frown of concern crossing his face. What the fuck was Ben doing with Jake? Before he could make a move Ben was whisked away by Charon and Murphy lost sight of him.

He spent the next few minutes nervously rearranging his cufflinks (simple silver squares, found in the back of a drawer in his father’s house), and finishing off his drink.

With the increased crowd Murphy didn’t spot Ben reappearing, but he heard his name being called and managed (in a moment of unusual grace) to deposit his empty glass before Ben’s arms were around him and Murphy returned the hug with a warm squeeze.

“What are you doing with Jake McCloud? Where’s Kerr?” Murphy said quickly and quietly, aware there may be ears around, before they separated. “You smell weird,” he added with a teasing grin at the new scent Ben was wearing, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes as he waited for the explanation. He was completely focused on Ben, oblivious to the gazes of Jake and his entourage

***

“An Elysium? A heaven within this city? An interesting plan. I suppose events such as this give you an idea of how that sort of thing may work with the mingling of species. And with the Academy bringing different beings together as well, it would be good for them to have a place to socialise.”

In truth Seb was more impressed by Jake than he had expected to be. He’d wanted to show his face to the District Leader and congratulate him, but hearing his plans made it seem like this hadn’t just been a spur of the moment decision to take over. Although Jake may well have just prepared his script after the take-over to make it seem less of an act of violence.

He had noticed the careful wording of Jake’s reply – and heard the implied ‘for now’ at the end of the statement.

“It’s fortunate you have such a large support network. It’s a lot to take on. Ben is a new addition to your group, isn’t he? Will you be playing a role in the creation of this Elysium?” he asked, directing his last question towards Sam so as to not exclude her from the conversation.

Vampires, vampires and more vampires. It was a Leech Circus, a veritable graveyard of the undead, no wonder they thought they ruled the city. Where were all the other supernaturals?

He continued to watch the broiling throng of reanimated corpses scurrying around the grounds, when he felt eyes upon him, so he turned in their direction. The guy was handsome, not that good looks were lacking in the undead if this soiree was anything to go by and he was about to address him when the young vampire moved off in a hurry. As he passed by he released such a sudden burst of emotion Saraekiel couldn’t help but pick up on them. Foremost there was so much surprised joy emanating from him it was like nibbling on fairy floss, sweet and delicate, but, underneath that there was a faint yet intriguing layer of frustration, simmering anger and sorrow that the sugary sweet concoction turned into something rich, dark and delectable. That vampire was yummy! He considered following him but got distracted as an extremely tall and vivacious figure stepped down beside him.

“Not exactly” he replied with wry amusement. The creatures demonic essence tickled along his skin, no, not demon, not exactly. Half demon maybe? Demonic something anyway. His eyebrow lifted with curiosity as he turned and looked at her .“More like something of interest,” He turned more fully towards her and smiled “Which I believe I have just found. And you? Whom or what do you search for”

Instead of accepting the car offered in the invitation, Jenella Vadim arranged for a driver to use her own silver Mercedes-Maybach saloon, and had made sure to arrive fashionably late. It saved her from having to wait in the queue. Tyres crunching over gravel, her car glided forward with smooth assurance, akin to the woman it held inside. Peering out the window as she pulled up, she saw her tiny family cluster, adjusting their clothes and turning their heads to her car.

Fingers linked together; cool, graceful and feminine with thick, hot and masculine, forming an odd little yin-yang parody that amused her. She smiled at her mortal man - a handsome extravagance in a long line of temporary distractions - and he brought her hand predictably to his lips. When the car stopped, she watched as he hurried out the car and around the boot to collect her door. Darling.

Her dress was a beautiful, shimmering affair designed to capture hearts, minds and desires. Atelier-Versace, of course. She'd flown in from the Ligurian riviera last night in order to attend this soiree, abandoning her art-inspired holiday. The invitation had arrived for her in the mail even though it had no postage stamp. A neat little trick. The car door opened and she swung her legs out first, showing off her silver strappy heels before she stood. Her first glance was to Pierre where it lingered the briefest of touches, the next swept past and through Damien disappointed Rachel had not come, before offering her hand to the man whose arm she would be on for tonight only. He was getting attached – she no longer wanted his captured attention.

Jenella moved lithely up the stairs, a tiny pull on her companion's arm impressing on him the direction she wished to go. Once the couple arrived, Jenella moved to lightly press a kiss upon each of Pierre's cheeks before turning to greet Damien in the same manner. Appropriately Euro.

"It is wonderful to be back in your presence," she said, immediately slipping into French as she knew they all preferred, though it felt strange on her tongue after immersing herself in Italy. "This is Ricardo," she introduced, and he bowed and offered his hand for the shaking, even though he didn't properly know French, enough words would be similar to offer him some insight into their conversation.

BEN

Ben smiled at Murphy's perception - even a tiny detail like a person's scent wasn't lost on him, it was what made him a fantastic journalist. Ben supposed that you got used to a person's smell as well - Murphy still smelled and felt like Murphy, even under the classy suit. He wondered if Sacramentum had started buying him gifts.

Ben replied to the easiest question first; "Kerr's around, I can feel him. Maybe not on the property yet, I don't know. Close." Then he addressed the problematic part. "Jake... I'm, uh, on a kind of diplomatic exchange program." He shrugged, hoping Murphy wouldn't pursue that line of questioning. When Jake's mental demand came for him to bring his friend came, Ben coughed politely into his fist.

"Fucktard."

Childish, certainly, but he didn't like putting Murphy into the thick of things... even though that moment had already come and gone thanks to a certain demonic article.

"Jake wants to meet you," Ben said. He held his tongue on further warnings, worried that it might make things unnatural and therefore worse for Murphy. "He just, uh, told me," he said, pointing at his temple. "Come on." He grabbed a blood martini off a passing waiter's tray and skolled it before stepping towards where Jake and his cluster had nested for the night, with Murphy at his side.

He dared to send a thought outwards, towards the blood connection he could feel: Kerr, where are you?

CHARON

Charon was surprisingly in demand. Many of their guests had made an effort to supplicate to him tonight - either physically with deep bows and curtseys, or mentally with acknowledgements of honour and respect. Very few recoiled in horror, and both were mortal staff unprepared for him. He didn't miss the way everyone steeled themselves first, though. Nobody looked at him with wonder; and once again he was filled with sorrow for his lost fledges.

He asked many questions, took many expressions of interest. He expected Jake to come to him. He knew the other was busy conversing with interested parties wanting to know about the move to the West... but Charon was more important that any of them so he would give Jake time to seek him out. Perhaps later in the night they would have their chat.

Jake had blindsided him, and that didn't happen anymore - certainly not when a kiss was involved. Charon had been respectful enough to take the most shallow look when the offer of openness and trust had come his way. He hadn't realised that Jake had relied on that to trick him. Taking the West without discussion was a bold move on the heels of a freshly made alliance. It had been very bad form to keep it a secret when alliances were built on sharing knowledge and resources. He wanted to know the other's motivation. Or his excuses.

He wanted to know if Jake was still interested in an alliance, or if they were just pretty words to keep the Sacramentum happy while he circulated an unguarded district. Charon moved through his milling guests, playing dim to not be disturbed until he saw Saint Sabrina standing with a golden adonis. Curious, he moved to them.

Coming, love, Kerr replied to Ben, his impatience travelling with the thought. He and Ichabod had arrived at the party in a timely manner (on the early side, even) only to be detained in an anteroom off the foyer of the expansive mansion. It had been close to half an hour and he was ready to bolt, decorum be damned.

It wasn't that he and his fledgling were guilty of any great transgression - Kerr was dressed formally as stipulated, wearing black pants, shiny black dress shoes and a charming teal-coloured formal Nehru shirt and jacket, holding the invitation that clearly stated he could bring anyone he wished, with Ichabod looking equally dashing and contrite by his side - it was just that they'd piqued the interest of the Sacramentum member greeting everyone at the door. She seemed wholly too intent on getting to know them for Kerr's liking.

"Ah, the infant tugs at the heartstrings," Jeanne murmured in husky French, grinning meaningfully at Kerr. His mental communication might as well have been spoken aloud, for all its clarity to her ancient sensibilities.

Kerr scowled at the flash of her dimples, still not trusting their apparent innocence. The woman looked like a mobile flower in her elegant dress, her every move sophisticated and calculated. Through the course of their conversation, he'd learnt that she was responsible for the entire party; she'd taken great pride in explaining her role as the Sacramentum's social director and organiser. She was often to be found at Venture (an establishment Kerr was forced to admit he'd yet to visit) but had been unfazed by Kerr's lack of knowledge on the subject and smoothly redirected the conversation to arts and antiquities, drawing him out of his infuriated mental state and onto captivating topics that he was interested in.

Damn her. She was too charming, her accent and mannerisms too alluring, her genuine interest in his family and his feelings too sincere. She wanted to know everything there was to know about Ben and Ichabod, openly admitting that she was glad of Charon's inappropriate dalliance with Ben, even though most of the family hadn't liked it. It made her own mistakes - which she didn't elaborate on - less awful and Charon seem closer to human again.

Despite Jeanne's warmth and wit, her genuine manner and her deliberate inclusion of Ichabod in the conversation, Kerr did his best to resist her. She no doubt read his thoughts and emotions as easily as Ben read a book, but he did his best to stay off his knees, to fight her charm, to tell himself that she was untrustworthy. All of them probably were. Plus, they followed an asshole that was seriously fucking with his family and his already-unstable mental state.

"Yes. I really must be going," Kerr announced firmly, also in French, yet he didn't move anywhere. He couldn't, without permission. The woman had a thousand years on him and it was her party; he had frustratingly little power in this situation.

Thankfully, Jeanne seemed ready to let him go at last. "But of course you must!" she declared in sultry English, opening her arms and tilting her head to take one more delighted gaze at him before she clasped his forearms and leant forward to kiss each of his cheeks in turn. "Find your love, your brother," she enthused, holding Ichabod's arms and kissing his cheeks also, before pulling back to bestow a twinkling smile upon him, "and enjoy the party!" A sweeping gesture towards the door was everything they needed to confidently take their leave at last.

Kerr didn't have to be told twice. He strode out into the party, pausing briefly to tuck his invitation away in a pocket and be sure Ichabod was keeping up with him, before he followed his instincts to Ben. He scanned the crowds without registering a great deal, doing his best not to make eye contact and accidentally invite another conversation he didn't want as they began to make their way out to the garden.

"That was a nightmare," he growled at Ichabod, taking advantage of his fledgling's proximity by leaning a hand on his shoulder. It helped keep him upright and stop his knees from buckling every time he got within spitting distance of an ancient. The fuckers were everywhere, it felt like.

Truthfully, the chat with Jeanne had been pleasantly interesting but Kerr needed to regain the mood he'd had before that little dalliance. Ichabod would no doubt be disheartened to witness the return of the angry, frustrated and bombastic sire he'd been forced to endure while they got ready and rode here in the car but Kerr needed to embrace that state of mind again. He was pissed off with everyone; Charon for this ridiculous arrangement, Jake for going along with it and Ben for opening his mouth and putting himself at the mercy of yet another fucking ancient. He'd been forced to spend the last three nights exchanging maddeningly infrequent texts with Ben - live in his cell in Jake McCloud's incarceration centre! - and he'd had enough.

He was only at this stupid party to find his fledgling and take him home and if anyone was going to change his mind, he was ready to fight. Fuck them and their stupid rules. His dark scowl returned in full force as they made their way through the throng and out to Ben.

Another question about Ben had been asked. Jake was so tired of everyone asking about him as if were some celebrity. Infamous was different from famous, and the people of the city would be wise to know which of those two categories Bennie boy fell into. Still, he showed none of this to Seb. It would make him look petty and small, and based on how engaged to the conversation he’d been up to this point there was no need to sour an opinion now. The question to Sam was one he expected. His daughter had likely developed a reputation for managing Jake’s affairs in such a way. She had held down the fort during his recent absence. He hadn’t told her yet about his plans for the cultural center, but he sent a feeling of warmth to her, indicating she would be involved overall. Sam could speak for herself though, and so Jake answered Seb’s question to him only.

“The academy and the changing demographics of our city demand we learn to work together,” Jake said, more or less meaning the words he was saying. “Events like this are informative yes, but more work is needed. I am hoping the new center will help us understand one another better. I’m going to need a huge staff though with many capabilities I don’t possess.” Those included time, patience and empathy. Jake needed a director who could execute his vision. It would seem more hiring would need to take place soon.

Now, to address Ben. “He is a temporary addition,” Jake clarified. “He’s on loan from the Sacrament as an exchange program of sorts.”And he’s currently my bitch.

He kept that thought locked up tight. Even an ancient would have to work to knock down Jake’s mental defences and he often found people stopped prying once they realized the mental shop was closed. He could see Ben and Murphy approaching but would wait until Ben introduced him. He was sure he would. Otherwise he’d just stand there awkwardly as Jake addressed Murphy directly. The human hadn’t seemed to notice him, and this was immensely disappointing for some reason. Using disciplines was likely discouraged, and so Jake resisted the urge to make his aura more attractive to the lad, at least for now.

A pull at the back of his mind moved his gaze from the approaching pair of buddies to the towering image of Saint Sabrina! The witch had returned, or had she never left? Jake could never be sure with such things. He touched his rose tattoo through his clothes and felt it and his Oligarch tattoo hum at the sight of their creator. He at least thought they hummed. She was talking to some other being who smelt a lot like Zoheret. A dark angel had joined the party. Jake wondered it that meant the high bitch herself was on the way. The final person who looked like he’d just joined the pair was Charon, and it was now Jake knew what had tugged on his mental strings. The kiss must’ve connected their minds somehow, and Jake felt an urge to abandon his party and seek out the ancient directly. He fought it though and tried his best to send a feeling of warmth to the host. He’d seek him out soon enough. He just needed to meet Murphy first. He felt a bit of his desire for the lad attach to the feeling and instantly regretted it. Now Charon would know a human had distracted him. Damn.Lisa-Joe Hampton broke down and put the heels back on, especially after seeing so many of the women at this party toughing it out. She had left the sitting room and moved back into the main foyer in time to catch Pierre. He was with some ancient and a beautiful woman she didn’t recognize. He looked good, and a joyful thought of hammering his balls with her knee caused a girlish sigh to escape her lips. The ancient, she assumed, was Damien. He looked like even more of a prig than Jake, and she instantly liked the look of Mr. DuSang better. Then there was this woman. Her beauty and style were undeniable true, if not a little too prissy for Lisa-Joe’s taste. Who was she? Pierre’s woman? Did he have one? Damien’s date was on his arm so he wasn’t hers. Pierre implied he was single during their pool game. What an interesting little set of observations she’d made. Still, the lady had a man on her arm too, but he smelled like fresh meat, and temporary at that. The Brujah made her way to the garden and lit a fresh smoke. She stood near enough to Sabrina and company to be noticed, but not close enough to overhear or eavesdrop. She spotted Jake sitting with Sam and Seb. Lisa-Joe was sure she’d drunkenly tried to arm wrestle him at least once, and she also knew he didn’t cause any trouble.

Why couldn’t you pick him for Harpy?

Still, she had no desire to listen to Jake jerk off about the west. The last few nights at the White Rabbit had been more than enough for her. She’d smoke and wait, and hopefully make eyes with Pierre as he passed her. She hoped the woman saw her too. Better hold on to your man Sugah.

She was a breath of fresh air as always. Pierre smiled at his fledge and her new beau. The gown she had chosen was typically Jenella and Pierre couldn't have loved her in it any more. In that moment, he felt something akin to both fatherly pride, and a slight growing arousal, neither of which he made any attempt to keep from her. She deserved to know that she looked spectacular. Her cool hands slipped into his, her cheek touching his in a very polite and formal greeting customary to the environment - which also served to remind Pierre that tonight was a night to behave. Pierre stuck his hand out as Ricardo reached for his and shook it firmly.

"Pierre DuSang, a pleasure. And this is Damien Evans." The Frenchman gestured at his Sire as the elder reached out and shook the human's hand with a brisk nod and polite smile.

"So tell us, love," Pierre extended his arm on the other side of Ricardo hoping Jenella to take it as well as the human's. There was no competition here between men - there was plenty of cordiality to go around. "How was Italy? Where did you end up going again? Monaco?" He would chat with his daughter for as long as she liked, brief glimpses of jealousy arising in him at her adventures and her ease of moving through the world. He was only briefly distracted by a familiar face of a handsome woman who made his groin hurt terribly at her memory. Quickly he turned his attention back to Jenella and Damien. The night would be interesting after all, it seemed.

--

It was Damien who had began to move the party wordlessly, wrapped up in his own head and listening to Jenella's accounts of a land he missed dearly. He couldn't now recall much of Italy or the riviera he had passed through as a human all those years ago, but it sounded familiar to him. He listened casually with other things on his mind.

Their little party moved into the estate, up the stairs where an impending Ancient was waiting, greeting guests. He nodded and bowed a greeting to the Ancient, watching as Pierre did the same. They moved on at a human's pace, allowing Ricardo to keep up. By the time they had entered the house, the party flanked Damien on both sides, Ricardo on the left, Pierre on the right, with Jenella in the middle. The youngers and the human discussed the architecture, the almost baroque appearance of the foyer and sitting rooms with amusement - Damien shared in none of this talk, feeling out the area with the most delicate of lacey fingers.

There were several Ancients here, more than there had been at the Masquerade Ball, and the acknowledgement of this made Damien mildly uneasy. Certainly, he was no young fledge who couldn't handle the mental pressure - he was near Ancient himself. But the idea of so many immortals of a particular age gathered in one area made him consider the worst possibilities quietly, soberly. He was no fool when it came to power struggles and violence, and this party reeked of chaotic energy, unpredictability. It was the main reason he didn't want to attend in the first place and certainly why he had kept Rachel at home. He knew close to nothing about how the Sacramentum operated, knew even less about their leader, Charon, besides a city full of rumors. When he had originally purchased his land for his home, his business, and his office spaces, the city belonged to a (naive) group of immortals. Now, it seemed the city was on the brink of yet another large political change. He stood at the back door of the estate, looking down onto the gardens as he thought, playing absentmindedly with the white gold cufflinks of his jacket.

"Damien, look."

Pierre's voice brought him back and he looked after where his fledge was pointing. Out in the garden was District Leader of the city center - and now the West, he remembered, annoyed - Jake McCloud.

---

She may have hated the mongrels, but their services were both pleasant and considerate of her status as District Leader. The Dark Angel had requested a car to pick her up that night, giving her own human driver the night off with pay. As soon as the sun had gone down the car had arrived and carried her gracefully through the city. This was how she expected to be treated by these undead things.

Zoheret had pinned her blonde curls up into a gorgeous loose looped braid which accented both her natural highlights and lowlights, as well as a flawless neck. Her dress, made of pleated purple satin almost gave away too much - almost. Sterling silver, white gold, and diamond collar and belt sat flush against her sun-kissed skin, keeping the satin from revealing far too much of her beautiful body. She wore nothing underneath and cared little about who knew it. Silver pumps and a clutch completed the look as she stepped out of the car and ascending the steps. She offered no invitation to the person at the door, offered greeting to no one unless it was offered to her first. Instead her hazel eyes hunted for any kind of familiar face. She knew there was another Angel of some kind here, though she couldn't spot where just yet. Was it Saraekiel? She would have loved to let him see her in this manner, fully powered and at the peak of her beauty. It usually made lesser men quake.

She was a Goddess, pure and simple, and it was about time that the beasts of this city recognize that.

Logged

Oh my tongue's the only muscle on my body that works harder than my heart.

Sam did not expect the last question to be directed at her, a feeling of stage fright arose. Would she be apart of this new Elysium? She had experience in the past with the White Rabbit, a nightmare in the beginning. Yet knowing little about running a business she managed to keep it afloat and profiting. On top of that, Sam had achieved an equality status from the Brujah; an honour she kept close to her heart.

Jake sent a warm feeling through their bond. Putting her mind at ease, there was no need to be nervous. Jake was here and she appreciated his help, nudging him back that she got the message. A respectful smile on her lips as she answered Seb's question.

"Yes, I will have a role. I played a role with the Elysium at the White Rabbit while Jake was absent." Giving Seb a modest bow as thanks for including her in the conversation.

Even if it was only one question it got Sam talking and creating an image. Calm, polite, understanding and kind, this was her personality and she wanted people to see that tonight. Not the impulsive and childishly angry fledge, controlled anger was scarier than a loose temper. Something she learned from the Brujah during Jakes leave for eighteen months. Though it was predominately vampires she hoped to run into a different species, if she had the luck and grace to pull it off.

"Old friends." The answer was quick as she watched Kerr move past them down the stairs, like a heat-seeking missile of ill content locked on to -- who else but Ben? She clicked the tip most of her tongue studs against the back of her front teeth (Sarakiel, if he was looking, would catch a glimpse not of silver or gold, but bleached bone skewering the muscle). "I don't get out much," She supplied, then, and held out her right hand for the shaking, "My name is Sabrina."

As Charon drifted toward the pair, Sabrina's smile broadened and she inclined her head in deference. Her left hand beckoned, and there was not a hint of revulsion on her face or in her manner, "Charon!" she greeted as the Vampire drew near, "The garden looks lovely. Jeanne has outdone herself."

A scent similar to her companion's wafted over from somewhere nearby. Brassy, bloody, Heaven; but tainted.

"I was in Genoa," Jenella spoke as they ascended towards the open entrance where she could already spy the grandeur of the chandelier, due to their position on the stairs. "I was there for the boat show, and then the Premio Paganini - where famous violinists compete for a grand prize. Ricardo qualified for the finals," she smiled at the man on her left before turning that smile back to her sire, "but lost in the end, to a woman far superior, and he was gracious about the loss and adoring of her talent." It explained her attraction to him - a man who could respect a woman, who could handle a loss, and who was a magnificent artist in his own right. She'd met him that night, offering congratulations in his placement, after which they'd barely been apart. He was a darling man and she was fond of him. "He has an appearance at the University here, tomorrow night. Then he will be going home, without me."

Jenella had noticed the woman staring at their little party, and her appearance was much aligned as Pierre's type. She wondered if he'd already dabbled with her. "And what has been happening here, while I've been away? A great deal?" she guessed, judging by this collection of ancients, the weight of their ages oppressive to her. It was difficult to keep her smile on her face, but years of practise helped.

BEN

Ben, meanwhile, felt the tension melting out of his shoulders as Kerr answered him. He was close enough to have heard. He smiled winningly at Murphy at his side, because he couldn't contain his grin and he needed someone to smile at and only Murphy was worthy of receiving it. While in the middle of that smile, he felt the reverberation of Kerr's rage that twanged on the bloodline much later than his message. Oh no. Please, not another scene at yet another party - it might've been a little over a year and a half since Kerr's folly at the Masquerade, but this was the only gathering that had happened since then. Murphy would see Ben's smile drop almost as quickly as it had come.

Kerr, let's do this gently. I don't want more enemies.

With renewed vigour, Ben took Murphy's arm by the elbow and led him the rest of the way to Jake. "Murphy Hilton, this is Jake McCloud, the District Leader of the city central," he said, and in his divided thoughts about his sire, Jake, Murphy and their relative positions in the Sacramentum, he failed to mention the west. "This is Samantha Rede, she's a lecturer at the Academy and Jake's fledge. Uh," Ben moved to face Seb but felt a great pull to his sire now, that he couldn't ignore. "Excuse me," he blurted, escaping the little circle in order to meet Kerr (and Ichabod too, he saw) along the path closer to the middle of the garden. Not usually big on hugs, Ben still intended on throwing his arms around his sire.

CHARON

Charon reached the womanly giant and nodded acknowledgement to the greeting and praise. "Indeed, Jeanne has great talent." He was happy with her and had been for a while. She was the only one in his family that hadn't spoken ill of Ben and for this she'd been allowed a little further into his heart. "She was also clever enough to arrange a gathering at the church tomorrow, so whatever isn't consumed will go towards the catering there, or to the... uh..." He contacted Jeanne quickly for the correct word. "Food drive," he said, the words sitting peculiarly upon his tongue. "I don't believe we have met?" he turned to the golden creature, who smelt like he'd been cleaning barbecues.

Ichabod was terrified. He’d answered Jeanne’s questions politely, but shortly, wishing he and his family were anywhere but here. The last few days had been so tense, not knowing what was going on with Ben, not knowing if he was safe. And Kerr had been an absolute nightmare, but Ichabod couldn’t hold it against him. He’d been there for his sire, missing his classes and cancelling visits with James, staying at Kerr’s side as much as possible. It was exhausting.

His cheeks flushed as Jeanne embraced him and he felt a wash of relief as they were finally released. She was stunning, but her age was overwhelming and they needed to find Ben.

“Thank you,” he murmured quietly, before hurrying after Kerr. He hadn’t put too much thought into what he was wearing, but it was well made and he didn’t feel out of place – apart from the fact he was definitely not in a party mood. He had the feeling they weren’t going to be following Jeanne’s final instruction.

You need to calm down, they’re all so old, he tried to press into Kerr’s mind, but they’d just spotted Ben across the room so Ichabod knew his urging was likely the last thing on Kerr’s mind.

Seb listened to the responses from Jake and Sam with interest. On loan? He knew there were a lot of layers in place in the politics of the city, but this was sounded too much like slavery for Seb’s liking. He fell silent, watching Jake with interest. He definitely had one trait which made him perfect for being a District Leader, he enjoyed talking about himself and clearly had little interest in other people. He answered questions but showed no interest in finding out anything about his companion, a characteristic which Seb was a little put out by.

He would have been prepared to wait for Jake to try to continue the conversation himself, or leave, but there wasn’t long to wait before a human was suddenly thrust into their midst by Ben.

Murphy had raised an eyebrow at Ben’s description of why he had arrived with Jake, then gave a laugh at the poorly covered insult.

“The diplomacy is clearly going well then?” he said with a smile, but still watching his friend carefully. Ben wouldn’t have left Kerr so soon after he’d come back, not by choice.

“What? Why?” he exclaimed hastily, shooting a glance towards the District Leader before moving swiftly to keep up with Ben. The beaming smiles Ben suddenly gave him did nothing to quell the sudden churning in the pit of his stomach. There was something wrong here, but Ben wasn’t telling him what, just urging him forwards.

Still, this wasn’t the first time he’d been in the middle of strangers and he turned his gaze to each of the circle as they were introduced, giving a smile to each, although he wanted to be more wary – Ben hadn’t given him much of a choice. He recognised Sam from visits to the university and wanted to gravitate to her, feeling she was the safest option out of those he was suddenly surrounded by and his smile to her truly was warm, more relaxed. He knew Jake was the one who had summoned him through, so he had to focus on him firstly.

“Mr McCloud, I’m pleased to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you,” Murphy said, stepping forwards and offering his hand to shake. He was amazed at how young the Leader looked – he didn’t know exactly how old Jake was and doubted it would be polite to ask. He was handsome though and no doubt he had the charm that so many vampires did to bring people around to his way of thinking. Or the force behind him.

Seb didn’t move from his spot and with little effort pressed the impression onto Murphy that he wasn’t there, unless someone were to directly bring the human’s attention to him. He was curious to see how Jake would treat someone of a lesser status who didn’t have the age of Seb to keep him mostly respectful. Whilst they spoke Seb cast his gaze towards the ‘loaned’ youngster about to meet his sire. With the speed Ben was moving this loan was definitely not one he had wanted to agree to.

Jake almost dragged Ben back mentally with full force.He hadn’t given him permission to run into the arms of Saint Kerr. He could see the crocodile tears, the sweet little kisses betwexit lovers. The whole thing made him sick in a mortal way. However, he softened. His hatred of Ben was turning him into the very person Ben thought he was; petty, aggressive, and filled with hate. He thought how he’d feel if someone took Sam or Scott from him. He gripped Sam’s hand, and kept his thoughts locked up, even to her. He could understand Ben’s anger towards him. He said nothing, mentally or verbally. Ben could have his happy reunion. Jake would let himself be the dragon of Ben’s making, and if Kerr played his cards right he might even let himself get slayed. Another victory for Ben. For Jake, it was another lump of coal.

He had other things to focus on. He knew his attention was split and so he made the decision to forget Ben for now and focus on the people in front of him. He didn’t realize his rudeness at not asking back about Seb. His attention was too split for that. No, he remembered the rules of polite conversation and that helped him to inquire about the man. The impulse to ask may not have been genuine but his desire to know more about Seb was.

“But enough of district affairs,” Jake joked, seemingly happy to change the subject. “I’ve realized I don’t know much about you Seb. I know your age and a few other details but that’s all. Tell me what’s important to know about you.”

He did say hello to Murphy, giving him a friendly smile and a quick, “very nice to meet you. Please sit with us a while and talk.” He took the handshake and answered it firmly but without aggression. His face would betray some of his interest but it looked at this point more like Murphy was dinner as opposed to a companion. But the rules of polite discourse told Jake the focus should be Seb. After all, the man had come to congratulate him, and his selfish desire to get to know Murphy would need to wait until after Seb was satisfied. He couldn’t help but let his aura brighten, and Murphy would feel a sense of curiosity directed his way.

Sam was pleased that Seb had shown interest in what she had said, taking that as a small victory. However, something seemed off with the ancient, falling silent as Jake declared Ben was a temporary addition. As much as Sam disagreed with Ben being Jakes bitch, there was nothing she could do. It was an agreement between Jake and Charon and she had no right to interfere, no matter how Sam desperately wanted too.

Ben's sudden appearance was not a coincidence, knowing Jake had something to do with his summoning. However, his friend in tow, Murphy, was an unexpected surprise. Why would Jake want to meet Murphy? Murphy was responsible for releasing the article about the Mimic Demons, causing them to leave for at least a thousand years. It seemed odd, giving a truly modest and welcoming smile to Murphy. Giving everyone a graceful now at Ben mentioning she was a lecturer at the Academy. Sam had seen Murphy at the Academy but he hadn't taken her class.

Sam's eyes snapped wide open as Ben just declared his leave. What in the world Ben? An ancient is here and we are supposed to be promoting the Academy?! Instead, her eyes followed Ben a moment and it made sense, Kerr and Ichabod had arrived. Gripping Sam's hand suddenly she reached through to Jake letting Sam's calm nature flow over to him. Since his return, Sam had gotten more attuned with Jake through their blood bond.

Murphy was now alone among the three and she wasn't sure what to expect, as Jake now focused on Seb again. Jake's introduction to Murphy was polite and sweet, however, Sam would see it was more of a dinner standpoint than genuine interest, what was Jake planning? When Seb spoke Sam gave Murphy a discreet look of interest to his company. Focusing on Seb again just as quickly as she acknowledged Murphy. Even with Jakes aura going she hoped Murphy and Seb seen her genuine interest in both parties, human and vampire at the table.

On the other side of Meadowcrest Woods lived a hacker and a wolf. They ran through the trees naked, chasing each other in turn. It was Digital's turn to chase, but he stumbled and fell flat, displacing leaves while his voices laughed and hissed at him.

Follow time, they said, wars won and lost, buildings built and fallen to dust, go find them, the tick-tockers. TICK TOCK!

"Tick tock," Digital whispered, getting to his feet and wiping wet leaves off himself as best he could. Where had his wolf friend gone? Hiding, he supposed. "Now now now now."

He ran towards the tick-tockers, the clocks, the hands who measured time and turned it backwards or forwards or maybe even sideways. He jumped over fallen logs and sprinted down embankments. Close, he was close, he was up against a fence now, the chainlink chiming a pretty song - chinky chinky chinky! Down again, running again.

A swimming pool! He dove into it and swam its length before getting out and shaking his head. That got rid of the leaves. He felt tick-tocky eyes on him and a sense of alarm as they touched his mind and he burnt their fingers. HA HA HA HA! No touching!

Digital strolled down the path and into a pretty garden where someone was throwing a party. The very oldest tick-tock at the party. He saw some friends as eyes turned his way. "Look at my sausage!" he said to them, pointing. "My invitation got lost," he added, then waved to the people he knew. "Kerr! Big Ben! Icky-icky-ikcy-ptang, roop-poy!" Turning his head. "Sabrina! I love you most!" Turning his head again. "Dark Royalty, Prince of Death, without his dragonslayer! And Sebastian who put out fires, dousing them in passion! Hello everyone else I don't know!"

Flick was proud of how clever his hiding spot was. Digital would never find him now. A white wolf hid in a hidden ditch, just beneath a long forgotten bridge. He'd had to slink through in Lupine form to fit, and Digital didn't have that gift. Pinky, the white rat, lay in the ditch with him. His eyes showed a newfound intelligence brought on by drinking Flick's blood. He was a friend now.

DIGITAL

Pinky was mad about something, his squeal of the Malkavain's name threatening to give away his location. Flick had been waiting a long time, and Digital's eyes just always seemed to see him wherever he ended up hiding. It made their game fun. They both had a good hide, but they both had a good seek. Flick pulled himself out of the ditch, getting stuck between the leaves and concrete for a moment. He manged though and sniffed the air. Digital was far, far away. His eyes glowed red and the wolf began to follow Digital's scent. Pinky rode on his back, the white rat happy for Flick's slow pace.

Where did you go friend, the wolf vampire thought. The smells of many supernatural creatures filled his nostrils. He wondered where Digital was leading him to.

If anyone was paying attention to the emotions or thoughts of the silent member of Jake McCloud's entourage, they'd find themselves steeped in tepid boredom. Bodyguarding was not particularly exciting work when it was going well. He'd made his way through his entire flute of champagne, largely just to pass the time, then deposited it on the tray of a passing member of the waitstaff without replenishing. More and more people - no, not people, monsters - were arriving with every passing minute, which was reason enough to keep his wits about him. Several people were talking to Jake now, but none of them seemed like they should be classified as immediate threats. Still, better safe than sorry. He rose to his feet, abandoning the bench, and made his way toward the cluster of vampires and who-knew-what-else.

On the way he checked in on the others he was supposed to be watching, and in doing so, couldn't fail to note the arrival of Digital. Luke blinked slowly but didn't miss a step on his way over to Jake. He didn't quite join the group, but he was near enough to be at hand if things went sideways. Folding his strong, undetectably mismatched arms over his chest, he idled and continued sweeping his gaze across those gathered.

There was a silver lining to all this. If he was some sort of sleeper-agent-cum-time-bomb, this had to be the kind of place he was designed to go off. The monstrous hatred he'd become so familiar with since waking up was nowhere to be found- another reason not to overindulge in the rather excellent champagne. His focus shifted slightly to his immediate surroundings and he began gathering up the threads of conversation occurring around his... what, employer? Jake would probably have liked him to think of him as his protector, or worse yet, his prince, but Luke wasn't there yet and doubted he'd ever be.

He lingered there at the fringe of the group, detached and handsome and imposing.